


Fuzzy

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [93]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Fuzzy, fuzzy blankies.





	Fuzzy

Kylo is much more acclimatised to the cold than Poe is, which amuses him to no end. In the mornings, he won’t get out of bed until he’s found his slippers (and Kylo mocks him mercilessly for needing them), and he would walk around in the bed-covers, if Kylo would allow it. 

This planet is just too cold for his Yavinite blood. He hops from foot to foot in the ‘fresher, and he turns the home’s central heating up whenever he gets in (if Kylo forgot to do it in advance). Warm mugs of hot chocolate are a regular staple, as are big bowls of soup with crusty hunks of bread.

But right now… the heating is broken. It’s broken _everywhere_ , because the freak storm has totalled the settlement’s power supplies, and everyone is on backup generators, running only essential things. 

Which means Poe Dameron is the most miserable Kylo has ever seen him, even though said misery is still a weirdly chipper (if slightly forced) smile, and a little bit of insanity in his eyes. 

BB-8 is in low power mode, and the house is just… eerily silent. 

Which really won’t do.

“Put these on,” Kylo says, holding out one of his sweaters (knitted, from his father, a terrible gift bought at some skeevy spaceport), which will drown the pilot thoroughly. Next is a huge pair of sweatpants that will _also_ drown him, but which look much less ridiculous.  


“Why?”  


“Trust your husband once in a while,” Kylo tsks at him.  


Poe’s smile is a little more natural, and he pulls on the clothes. The waistband ends up somewhere near his nipples, and the sleeves hang down.

“Now these,” he says, holding out some massive, Wookie-looking socks and gloves.  


Poe puts them on, with a bemused expression. 

“Now get in bed,” Kylo insists.  


“I’m supposed to be doing my report…”  


“ _Essential energy use only_ ,” Kylo chides him, and clucks until Poe obeys.   


When he’s in, Kylo brings through every blanket he can find. He layers them over Poe, and then slips under the covers. 

Poe wastes no time, burrowing into his chest, winding his limbs through Kylo’s longer ones, all but purring in happiness. 

“You’re so warm,” Poe enthuses, from somewhere in the fluffy mess.   


“I could say something about how I’m on fire for you, but I won’t.”  


“You did anyway.”  


“…pretend I didn’t,” Kylo says, after a pause, and kisses his forehead.  


“Nah. You’re cute when you’re goofy,” Poe replies, and pushes his nose under Kylo’s chin.  


It’s _freezing_. But Kylo doesn’t even hiss.


End file.
